


Drinks with the Devil

by junko



Series: Chasing Demons [10]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:13:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a fit of restlessness, Renji breaks out of "confinement" to take Komamura out drinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinks with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> In which, among other things, I lay out my crazy-ass theories about Gin, Renji (the tattoos on his face), Komamura, and demons everywhere.... 
> 
> There is, in point of fact, only *one* story of a nue in Japanese legend as far as I have been able to find. To be fair to the great samurai Minamoto no Yorimasa, the nue was making the Emperor sick. I have embellished the legend by adding the nue's motivations. If you would like to read it in a more straight-foward manner, Wikipedia has a version here: <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nue>

Lieutenant Iba gave Renji the dirtiest look. His brows were drawn together over the sunglasses he wore, and the pencil-thin mustache was twisted in a deep frown.

“Shit, Abarai. Now I’m gonna owe Ikkaku five hundred yen,” he said finally. Iba was leaning against an open window in his tiny office. His arms were crossed and one leg was propped up on the sill, his powerful frame silhouetted by the muted light of the gray day. The rain had finally stopped an hour ago, but the sky retained a heavy, dark feeling even as light tried to eke through. “Ikkaku said you’d slip your leash in less than a week. I had my money on Kuchiki. Figured he’d sit on you if he had to. I should’ve known better than to bet against your former commander, though. Damn it.”

Renji nodded absently.

He’d tried to stay at the estate, honestly. But, Byakuya showed no signs of life all afternoon and Renji had gotten restless. He’d had brunch, scored a few more tea cakes, wandered around the meditative gardens in the drizzle, got lost in the great hall more than once, and eventually tried to poke Byakuya into at least talking to him. The captain’s reistsu flared angrily and he told him to leave him alone and then promptly fell back to sleeping like the dead. After that, Renji had coaxed Eishirō into helping tuck Byakuya into a proper bed. The steward had given Renji a stern glare over the state of the frog kimono, but he’d just returned a shrug and sloppy grin. After that, Renji had made a serious effort to sit patiently at the bedside and to be all dutiful and whatnot. It hadn’t worked out. He was tapping his foot, pacing, and eventually tried to pick up one of the captain’s porno books, but it had turned out to be mostly obtuse poetry with not nearly enough pictures. 

Two minutes later, he’d given up entirely and gone over the wall.

Besides, he was craving a good oden, the kind that sat and simmered in a street vender’s pot for days. Not the kind of thing the Kuchiki manor served. Ever.

“Yeah, anyway,” Renji said, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I promised to buy your boss a drink. I was wondering if I could upgrade our date to dinner and drinks.”

“Ooooh,” Iba teased. “Next you’re going to want to take him to a show.”

“Whatever. You think he’s up for it?”

“I’ll go ask.”

#

 

As Renji walked down the streets with a ten foot tall fox-demon in a haori, Renji started to wonder if part of the captain’s exam involved the ability to stay completely silent for hours on end.

In which case he’d never pass.

“So, uh, yeah, I hope you like stew,” Renji said stupidly, but he forged ahead anyway. “I know this great izakaya that will let you bring in your own food.” Renji looked at Komamura’s long, furry snout and suggested, “Or you could get kushiyaki or something once we’re there. Anyway, I’m dying for some oden, so I figured I’d stop and pick up something and then we’d head to the bar.”

The captain just nodded.

Turned out the captain preferred thinly sliced raw meat cuts, so he ordered the basashi from the waitress once they were seated at a table. Because of Komamura’s size they got a spot in the middle of the large open room. Renji was grateful to see the captain sit cross-legged. He might be quiet, but Komamura didn’t stand on ceremony, because when the sake arrived he poured his own.

Once they each had a bowl, Renji lifted his as though for a toast. “To the good-guy demons,” he said.

Komamura’s amber eyes narrowed, but he said, “I’ll drink to that, but I don’t understand it.”

Renji tipped back his bowl and took a long swallow. He set it down and pointed to his nose, “Nue.” Before lifting his soup bowl to his lips, he gestured at the captain broadly with it, “Kitsune.”

“Not entirely,” Komamura said. “And, that part would be more properly: zanko.”

“Oh, right,” Renji said putting down his bowl. A benevolent god-fox. Made sense. “Sorry. I guess that’s the difference between you and Ichimaru, eh?”

The captain nearly choked on the sake he’d brought to his muzzle. “What?”

“The other fox spirit in our ranks, Gin Ichimaru,” Renji repeated. He fished out a snake palm slice with his chopsticks and chewed on it. “Are you saying you didn’t smell it on him?”

Komamura smoothed his whiskers back thoughtfully, “You did?”

“He was my lieutenant. Hard not to notice,” Renji shrugged, chasing down a slippery hardboiled egg and popping it in his mouth. “Anyway, the end of this story kind of makes it obvious, doesn’t it? His sort like to trick overly proud samurai, teach them a lesson about being too self-important and arrogant. Kind of sounds a lot like the Soul Society to me.”

“You make a lot of interesting assumptions, Lieutenant Abarai,” Komamura noted, picking up a slice of horse meat and curling his tongue out to catch it. His small sharp teeth gleamed in the candlelight as he chewed.

Renji didn’t think he was wrong about any of it, so he just shrugged. He snagged a fish cake and a few shards of radish. He washed it down with sake.

“A nue?” Komamura said softly, picking up another slice of meat to chew. “I didn’t know there was more than one.”

Renji glanced up from his bowl. His brain started clicking in time to the increased ticking of his heart. “Only one? Huh. You know, before Rukia talked me into going to Academy, I used to have this crazy dream,” Renji said, his mouth going dry. He swallowed more sake to settle his nerves. “I haven’t thought about it in ages, but it was a reoccurring nightmare. I always woke in a sweat, feeling a hot stabbing in my heart.”

Komamura nodded, “The arrow.”

“Right,” Renji said, his hand cupping the spot on his chest where his heart threatened to beat through his ribs. “The arrow…. Yeah, the arrow the samurai shot the nue with.” Renji shook his head, trying to shake the creepy crawly feeling prickling across his skin. “I hated that dream. It was so… frustrating. Why didn’t they understand? I was floating over the palace, trying to tell the Emperor something important, warn him about a tragedy that was going to befall him and his family. But, before I could, that damn samurai came out on the roof and shot me. Stupid fucker,” Renji spat with a sharp venom that he hadn't realized he'd felt.

“They treated you roughly,” Komamura agreed. “Is it because your body is trapped under the burial mound that you reincarnate in this form now?”

“I… I don’t know,” Renji said. His hands were shaking where they curled around the sake bowl. Was it true? Had he really been the nue in his past life? Or, had he been stuck as a human with a nue’s soul through several cycles? That last thought made the most sense. Though, when he thought about it, he wasn’t very settled in this body... in this form. As soon as he could, he’d tried to change his flesh, tried to mark it as belonging to the demon. He’d even tattooed his face—as if to show the world, ‘Look, I’m not like you! See my demon visage! Fear it!’ 

And yet he had such a funny relationship to the facial tattoos. He’d done it completely sober and with full intent, but most of the time he hid them… just like Komamura had under his bucket helmet.

Komamura raised the sake bowl to take a careful sip. Renji watched him, thinking it must be hard to drink like that when it would be so much easier to lap. “How come you don’t shape-shift like Ichimaru?”

Komamura let out a deep warning growl and barred his teeth slightly.

Renji stared him down, letting a bit of Zabimaru’s reistsu glow behind his eyes. “So, what does that mean? You can’t? Are you cursed or something?”

“It’s none of your business,” the captain said. “But, as it happens, I am of mixed parentage. My father was an oni. His blood makes it impossible for me to shift.”

An oni! That explained the captain’s size! “Cool,” Renji said, returning his attention to the salty stew. “I mean, not about not being able to transform, but about your dad.”

“Cool?” Komamura asked, completely baffled. 

“Sure,” Renji said, slurping more broth. “I was thinking when you corrected me about being part-zanko, that maybe it was easy for you. You know… to be good.”

“Ah,” Komamura said. He frowned at the sake bowl for a moment, and then, with a quick look to see if Renji was watching, stuck it under his nose and started lapping. “It’s not.”

“For me neither,” Renji said with a grunt. He lifted the bowl again. “That’s why I say, 'to us!' The good guy demons.”

#

The sun had completely set by the time Renji made it back to the estate. After he and Captain Komamura had bonded, they fell into talking about Aizen’s betrayal. Komamura expressed quiet concern that if other people were aware of Ichimaru, they might blame his people. Renji assured him that most people had no idea, and, anyway, it was clear Ichimaru was an asshole regardless.

Renji figured the easiest way back in was to jump the wall at the far side, make his way through the cherry orchard, and scale the wall that lead to the porch just off captain’s master bedroom. He’d made it through the whole thing unmolested, until he poked his head over the railing. He almost fell back twenty feet when he was met by the stormy gray eyes of one Byakuya Kuchiki.

Someone, probably the steward, had lit the lamps that hung along the walls. Pools of flickering light cast Byakuya in a golden halo as he sat on the low bench. The captain had changed into a deep maroon kimono decorated with silver dragonflies. It would look beautiful on him, if he wasn’t shooting Renji a withering glance.

“Oh, hey, Taicho,” Renji said, trying to sound casual despite the fact that he was creeping over the side of the railing, “Look at you. You’re… awake! That’s, uh, great.”

“You had better not have left the estate grounds.”

Renji pulled himself the rest of the way over to stand on the floor, but he kept his distance. “Uh… well….”

Byakuya’s sigh was pure frustration and restrained anger. “At least tell me you were discrete, that you didn’t parade through the streets?”

“Okay, um… I did kind of go out to eat with Captain Komamura, but I made sure we stuck to the far edges of the Seireitei.” When Byakuya opened his mouth, Renji raised a hand to stop him, “I was sneaky getting back and forth, I swear! No one from the Sixth saw me, if that’s what you’re worried about. Though… uh, Iba is probably telling everyone how he lost the bet. I guess Ikkaku was making book on how soon I’d stage a break out.”

Byakuya’s mouth was a thin line. “I see.”

Renji rubbed the back of his neck and shifted from foot to foot. “Sorry. I got bored.”

“I’m not pleased, Renji.”

“I know,” Renji said. He came over to where the captain sat. Even though Byakuya resolutely didn’t move to make room for him, Renji plopped down on the edge of the bench with a huff. He knocked his shoulder into Byakuya, “I’m in big trouble,” he smiled. “You want to punish me?”

Despite the semi-darkness, Renji could see a slight flush color Byakuya’s cheek. “Renji,” he said warningly. Just when Renji thought his randy ploy had backfired, the tension in Byakuya’s posture relaxed with a sigh. “I can’t,” he admitted, clearly disappointed. “This morning… nearly killed me.”

“Well, you could tell me what you’d do.”

Byakuya turned his face sharply to stare in shocked horror--which, for Byakuya, was a slight widening of the eyes and mouth. “Renji Abarai!”

Renji’s smile was wicked because, despite the captain’s protests, Renji knew damn well the Byakuya was a master at dirty talk. He might have been completely hallucinating under the effects of Ichimaru’s poison, but Byakuya had it in him somewhere, deep inside. “Okay,” Renji said with a shrug, “I could tell you.”

“No,” Byakuya said. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you sure?” Renji said, slipping an arm around Byakuya’s waist, and pulling him close enough to breath into his ear. “It could start with an order to strip….”

“Stop,” Byakuya said sharply. “I refuse to participate in this debauchery until I’m well enough to fully enjoy it.”

Renji’d started to pull back, hurt and disappointed, until he the last part of Byakuya’ssentence sunk in and registered. “Fully…? Oh, right,” Renji said. “Fine, we can save the dirty talk until later.”

“Mmmm,” Byakuya murmured, leaning his head into Renji’s shoulder, “Perhaps tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Yeah, tomorrow’s good.” Renji stretched out his legs, feeling the tightness in his muscles--a product of not enough decent excercise. Overhead, a crescent moon struggled to shine through a haze of clouds. The air still held a moist coolness from the day’s rain, but Byakuya’s body heat pressing against him mitigated the chill. He ran his hand along Byakuya’s hip, feeling the soft slide of silk, “But you got to stop wearing the cute kimonos. I’m going to feel guilty if I wreck them.”

“I have several, given to me as gifts, that I would happily see ruined by you. Auntie Massay has dreadful taste. She’s convinced herself I look good in teal… and pink butterflies.”

Renji couldn’t imagine a single thing could make Byakuya look anything other than amazing, but he nodded. Though, to be honest, he had no idea which color group teal belonged to; he always got confused once things started having names like puce or chartreuse or fard. “Well, dig the ugliest one out of storage,” Renji said. “Maybe when you’re up for it, I can rip it off you with my teeth.”

Renji almost didn’t hear Byakuya’s hissing breath, “Oh.”

Okay, put that one down in the “to do” column, Renji thought with a wicked grin. But, Renji left Byakuya with his thoughts and they stared out into the misty darkness for a long time. When Renji felt his head knock against the wall, pulling him from a light doze, he yawned, “Ready to go to bed?”

“Yes, but I will go under my own steam; no ridiculous chivalrousness from you.”

“Yes, sir,” Renji said. He did, however, offer an arm, which Byakuya sneered at for a long moment before finally acquiescing to take. Renji made no comment as they made their slow, clearly still quite painful way to the bed. He did have to catch Byakuya when he seemed ready to collapse onto the mattress, though. Then, he gently helped the captain tuck in before unceremoniously stripping off his uniform and crawling under the sheets.

“Damn you,” Byakuya said, turning to let Renji take him into his arms. “You could have at least taken a minute to let me enjoy that.”

“Look, Taicho, you’re the one that’s been saying no all night. Anyway, I don’t want to be responsible when your heart gives out because my naked beauty turned you on so hard.” His voice teased, but he couldn’t help the edge of real worry that crept into his tone. He rubbed his hand along Byakuya’s back, massaging muscles lightly, trying to ease the tightness that the pain had cause. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Of course,” Byakuya sniffed, stiffing again. 

Renji sighed. Way to make things worse by showing real concern. “Yeah, fine. Will you at least let me rub your back until you fall asleep?”

“I… Yes. You could kiss me, as well.” Then, as if he needed to, the captain admonished, “Softly.”

Renji shifted slightly so he could place gentle, loving kisses on Byakuya’s face and in his hair. Renji hands moved automatically, and he was careful to keep the motions soothing rather than sexy. After a few moments of repetitive, calming rubs, Renji felt Byakuya let go a little and relax. It was funny how much Renji loved being the one to see moments like this, when Byakuya actually let himself unwind a tiny bit. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I won’t let go.”

Byakuya’s arm slipped around Renji’s waist and gave him a little squeeze. He said nothing, but Renji understood. 

_Thank you_ , the captain was saying. _Thank you_.


End file.
